


A Force of Nature in Human Skin

by Tobi_Black



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Alternate Universe - Somebody Different Dies/Somebody Different Lives, Alternate Universe - Uzugakure founded first, F/F, F/M, Gen, Uzumaki steal 'unattended/unwanted' children and adopt them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 23:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobi_Black/pseuds/Tobi_Black
Summary: Her father died, younger than expected.It left Uzu like the calm before a storm, because he alone had held seven very independent clans together, and without him, their alliance would fall apart. Their village would fall apart.Mito would not allow that to happen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked, almost a year ago, for a piece for the Madam Kage collection, and I finally managed to finish it.

As she sat _seiza_ on a pillow, Mito couldn’t help but think that her father should have lived another decade or two.

He’d been old as a shinobi, but as a Uzumaki, he was young – only sixty. Her grandmother had lived to over hundred, and been spry enough to protect her clan up until she was easily pushing ninety. No natural-born Uzumaki she knew of that survived their lifestyle to be amongst the elderly of the clan died any younger than a hundred.

She’d been a late baby for him, but he also had been wrangling six other clans under the banner of the Uzumaki in the land they’d lived in for generations untold since before the Sage. She’d been a little girl when he’d helped create their fledgling village, driven by how even with all of their skills as a clan, he’d almost lost the woman he’d loved to childbirth without a safe place for her to recover after.

Should have been, could have been, would have been were luxuries she didn’t have though.

The village she’d grown up in, remembered from its earliest days when their homes had been first built out of coastal stone but hardly complete, just beginning to be covered in their innumerous fuuinjutsu, was on the verge of fracture without a strong leader.

It hadn’t been even quite a generation since her father had brow-beat the six other clans that lived in the land that would become called Whirlpool in another decade or so when the civilian government stabilized and expanded, into a peace. It was still fresh in their memory how they’d been fighting on-and-off for a decade or so before, with innumerous skirmishes between at least two of their clans for even longer. It was their nature; the temperament of each clan was as wild as the forces of nature they were named for, and none would be tamed. It took a true force of nature housed in human form to force them to respect any authority but their own.

Her father had taken each clan leader to task, killing anyone who would resist an era of unprecedented peace between the seven of them, and granting mercy for those who swore on their children and grandchildren that they would at least _try_.

Now, they were falling back on bad habits, eyeing each other in suspicion now that the one person who had never let them forget why they were all there, was dead. And when that failed, beat them into the ground. It was a credit to her father that they hadn’t immediately dissolved back into warfare after he had died, but Mito knew it wouldn’t last.

They were all shinobi, each as fierce as the other, and the Uzumaki were more populous only by virtue of their habit of taking home any unattended child that showed a certain spunk. Her brother was one of those children, and would now be her heir, as she had been her father’s for the Uzumaki.

Releasing the breath that she’d held too long already, Mito accepted her father’s death quickly, even if she still meant to grieve for the year and day that her people had adopted as standard for loss. Then she nodded to her mother, allowing her to start to adapt her hairstyle from her simple bun with her bangs pinned with three clips, to something new.

Her hands quickly, assuredly went through practiced motions for her seal-work, each brush-stroke concise. Her father had worn a pair of seals hanging from iron hairpins sticking from his top-knot, inscribed with explosive seals strong enough to level mountains. Had leveled mountains once – she’d never forget seeing him do exactly that to an island within sight of the village now, as a show of force and promise to anyone who thought to threaten his family for leverage after she’d nearly been kidnapped by a warmonger.

Mito thought of another sort of seal for her new hairpins instead of the enhanced strength she’d favored for years, even as she glanced at her ten or so scrolls for a seal that she’d place on her body to store chakra in. One seal would summon gale-strength winds she would send spinning around her, and the other would turn any land into a lake from the massive amounts of water it would release.

Once her mother was done with her hair, she strung her seals to her father’s hairpins and put them in place, then put on the only bit of color she would wear on her face here on, staining her lips a blood red.

Then she stood, pulling on the long haori that had been modeled after the one her father had adopted as something different than what he’d worn as Clan Head with their kamon proudly displayed, instead relegating for the moment her clan pride to the three gold hair clips only the direct line of succession could wear, and the headpiece her father had worn. The haori was white with purple hemming, her allegiance as the Uzumaki Clan Head shown with **_Uzumaki_** written in blood down the back with space for six other names, three on either side.

Mito left her compound with a vicious smile twisting her lips, daring _anyone_ to challenge her for the right to be Arashikage.

~

As she walked through the village, brushing her hands against her father’s barrier seals to trickle her chakra into them to further strengthen each layer of protection they provided, Mito met each gaze that tracked her.

What she was doing, was taking up the task that her father had decided was to solely to be the Arashikage’s, even if many of the clan would add their strength to both their compound’s barriers and to their individual and close family’s homes, but to go to each section of the village and invest their chakra in all of them was the duty and privilege of their leader. With this, and the haori, she was declaring her intent to take up her father’s mantle.

With each gaze that nodded, she saw support for her claim grow.

With each that looked away, and quickly left, she knew went to inform their own clan head of what she was doing. Either the other six heads would challenge her, or they would accept her without a fight.

Mito knew it would be a fight though; _she_ refused to accept anything less for one, because if she could not defeat the strongest of each clan, than she had no _right_ to act as if she would protect the entire village.

With every step she took in her circuit, she waited to be stopped.

In front of the Tsunami, she was.

Their clan head, a woman only ten years older than her with dark blue hair and grey eyes as characteristic of her clan, waited in front of her external barrier seal for her compound. Her arms were tucked into the long sleeves of her clan haori, as she raised one eyebrow at her haori

“Uzumaki-hime – or is it Uzumaki-sama now?”

Mito met her gaze squarely, “Tsunami-sama, I have assumed my father’s position as head of the Uzumaki.”

The other woman bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment, displacing the few strands of white streaking out above her ear to fall across her cheek. Then she stepped away from the wall, “Prove to me that you have what your father had to make my father bow his head in defeat.”

Tsunami launched herself forward with all the force of her clan namesake, an unstoppable force that pushed Mito back a step as she blocked the punch. Her purple-tinted blue eyes didn’t leave grey as she blocked the following kick, before she grinned.

Mito took the next hit to her shoulder despite how she could _feel_ it send spiderweb cracks though the bone, before she was twisting and throwing her own punch at the older woman.

From there, each punch and kick they threw landed as both of them made to prove how much each could endure and how hard they could hit. Each of them was determined to hit harder and take more, pounding away with the unstoppable brute force both of their clans were famed for.

Neither flinched as Tsunami spat out a mouthful of blood through split, swollen lips with a bruise already forming on her jaw, and Mito had one eye swollen shut behind a fierce bruise, both moving beyond a broken knuckle or two.

Tsunami paused to wipe away the blood drippling down her chin, then smiled as she kicked out one last time with all of her might, but Mito held firm without wavering.

“You got my approval, Uzumaki.”

Mito returned it with a bloody one of her own.

“Call me Mito.”

The other woman laughed, “Then call me, Daitan, Mito.”

~

It was perhaps foolish of her to not heal every wound that Daitan had given her, and she did heal the broken bones and the black eye, but the split lip and bloody smile she left behind was further proof that she had come out the winner.

She watched how the Tsunami bowed their heads now, with their clan head’s signature in blood on her back, acknowledging her as Arashikage.

Then she continued.

~

She was in front of the Taifuu compound when an older man she recognized as the clan head, waved at her from atop the wall.

“Uzumaki-sama! Following in your father’s footsteps I see. Admirable of you.”

His blonde hair, a pale gold that caught the eye like lightning even as it was streaked with a strand or two of grey, was in a high ponytail, swaying in the coastal breeze as he stood atop the brick wall looking down at her with a too sharp grin.

“A clansman saw you fight Daitan-chan, and I doubt I could beat you in a fistfight if you bested _her_. I’ll support your nomination as Arashikage if you can beat me in a race atop the rooftops.”

Mito raised an eyebrow at him.

“That’s poor play, I doubt I could beat you in a race. My father called you Kamikaze, fastest man alive, Akemi-san.”

He laughed, smiling “Did he! He was always trying to beat me, always has since we were just kids meeting for the first time in battle. I was too fast for him though.” – but his dark eyes were sad – “He was a good friend, I was proud to call him so, and the world lost a good man when we lost him. For old times’ sake, humor me and let us race across the rooftops, and I will support you, Mito-chan.”

She hopped up alongside him.

“One day you will tell me how you and Tou-san became friends, if you met on the battlefield.”

Akemi chuckled, “One day, little princess, one day.”

Then between one blink and the next, they were off.

~

Mito lost the race, but still walked away with Akemi’s signature for the Taifuu on her back.

Akemi walked away whistling a jaunty little tune that she almost recognized from hearing around Uzu’s port as a dirty ditty, smiling, “One day, Mito-chan, one day you’ll catch me and earn that story, but it wasn’t today!”

She laughed when the man shamelessly started belting out the song, twirling the sleeve she’d managed to rip off.

_If the seas be cold, warm yourself between porcelain thighs!_

_Hold yourself along a moon-lit back, grasping at bountiful-!_

She continued as she hummed the rest of the line once he was out of hearing, dragging her fingertips across seals and charging them on her way to the Kōzuki.

There were more nodding than leaving now, among the villagers, with half the clan heads behind her bid.

Daitan and Akemi hadn’t been against her, not truly. The Tsunami would have only opposed her if she couldn’t hold her own, and the Taifuu had been close allies with the Uzumaki for a quarter of a century thanks to the friendship between her father and Akemi. And with Akemi, as head of the Taifuu, would come Ezume and the Kōzuki, being sister clans.

The Jishin would acknowledge her if she earned their respect.

Sango was a friend, but she would do best by the Fubuki before anything else, even if it meant leaving the village instead of supporting her.

It was the Funka that would be the real challenge, particularly with Fudo as head. Her memories were full of moments where Fudo had gone against her father for often what appeared to be no reason.

~

Ezume created her outside his compound, his blue hair loose down his back with the crooked fringe almost hiding one cerulean eye, a grin on his face, “Did you beat Akemi?”

She sighed, “I still haven’t gotten the story of how he and my father became friends out of him, no. I was _close_ though, caught his sleeve.” – but couldn’t help her own proud twist of lips at getting _that_ – “He looked so _proud_ at my destroying his clothes though.”

The man laughed before he pushed off the wall, and while he had none of the grey Akemi had, there were lines around his eyes that showed he’d already outlived most shinobi on the continent, put there not by grief but by time.

“He’s kept his title as Kamikaze for a reason, Mito-chan! Even among his clan known for their speed, he’s the fastest. Outside his own daughter, your father and you are the only ones who still try to best him. Depending on the day, his daughter can almost best him, has been neck-and-neck with him for months. He’s probably glad to know that you’ll be there to push his daughter to new speeds before she goes and decides to investigate that Senju who has been chasing the wind since your clan adopted his brother.”

Mito knew that Senju was getting ever closer to figuring out where Itama had gone, his sensory range butting up against the protective seals thrown around the village, and that when Itama left to go steal one of his brothers for the clan, they were very shortly going to get two for the price of the one because that Senju would follow. Sometimes she couldn’t wait, because from the rumors she’d heard, the speed he’d gotten to his other younger brother, not Itama, to save him six years ago put him right around her speed now and Akemi could always use a little more competition if he’d just gotten faster.

Ezume drew her out of the thoughts of that Senju by holding out a hand, “Feeling lucky, Mito-chan?”

She laughed as she mirrored him, because of _course_, Ezume would decide to challenge by rock-paper-scissors. Her father had always said that he had the luck of a devil, and for the sake of her pride, she should never make a bet with him.

Despite what civilians thought, the game wasn’t just luck – it was a good test of knowing your opponent, reading body language, and reflexes, too for a shinobi.

~

Ezume was good, but she was _just_ good enough that for as many as she lost, she tied just as much.

Nine rounds in and no clear winner, Ezume threw up his hands with a smile, “If the lady would be so considerate to accept a tie? I had plans to cook for my husband in a surprise lunch-date and too much longer and he’ll know about it.”

She grinned with him, “Tell Kano he’s lucky.”

He just laughed as he wrote Kōzuki on her back, “_I’m_ the lucky one, if not for your father, I might have had to kill him in a war with the Tsunami. I thank Susanoo every day that I didn’t.”

~

Unlike the rest so far, Kameko wasn’t waiting outside her compound, she met her on the way to the Fubuki.

The woman was grinning like a shark as she flexed.

It was totally the wrong time, but Kameko had _muscles_, muscles that could crush her head between her thighs easily, arms just as thick. Mito couldn’t be blamed for _appreciating_ the woman, her sleeveless yukata left open to accommodate that broad chest too big for even custom-made women’s wear, while happy little turtles walked around the hems of the spring green.

Her long ink black hair was pulled back in her customary braid along the back of her neck, and a cute turtle-themed hairband kept the few hairs that got loose from getting in the way of her dark eyes lined in kohl.

Let it never be said that Mito didn’t have a type when it came to women.

Kameko laughed as she tried to subtly make sure she wasn’t drooling, “Mito-chan!”

The twinkle in those eyes said she didn’t quite succeed, but as always, it was appreciated considering if Kameko had been born into any other clan instead of the Jishin, her being born a man might have not resulted in such a strong musculature that it would have made it easier to look like a woman was expected to by the greater populace. Of course, amongst shinobi, it didn’t bother them too much, considering how often they went in disguises off a battlefield, and choosing a look outside what they were born to was almost common. At least here off the main continent; Mito couldn’t speak of the other Elemental nations.

“I see you intend to take up as the Arashikage! You must prove yourself to my clan first!”

Her dark purple eyes slid to the side, to see that leaning over the top of the walls and against them, were the Jishin, called out of the ether by their clan head to witness this challenge. Men and women, all large and muscles, dark hair either kept short or shaved, grinning and flashing white teeth.

“The Tsunami beat me to a fist fight, but I have another challenge of strength!”

Mito had a sudden bad feeling. Kameko was always wanting-

“We are to arm wrestle!”

Amaretsu’s tits.

With a seal, she could win, but that wouldn’t be a fair challenge – but in terms of brute strength, any Jishin could trounce her. Kameko was clan head for a reason though, considering she’d challenged the clan for leadership after their previous one had held their annual contest for it, and the rest of the village had thought she’d caused an earthquake when she’d slammed her opponent into the ground.

Kameko settled herself down, gesturing for her to join her.

“I witnessed your strength destroying a mountain to the west! I wish to see you use that strength, Mito-hime! I would take it as insult if you held back at all!”

Mito settled herself on her belly, “I would take it as an insult if we don’t make the village think there’s been an earthquake.” – brushing fingers lit up with chakra to the chakra points at her forehead, base of her throat, heart, core, and right shoulder – “Then we shall!”

Her chakra moved faster, strengthening the muscles around those life points without enhancing them, and Kameko’s grip was firm, would have been crushing if she hadn’t been matching it.

Within seconds of, “Begin!” – the ground beneath their elbow shuddered, muscles bulging as her grin went as sharp as her teeth because Mito had never met a challenge that was impossible. No Uzumaki had.

Her father had created a village out of chaos.

Her ancestor had left the warring sons of the Sage behind by literally shoving this land away from the main continent.

Her grandmother had told tales of another ancestor sealing the body of a ten-tailed beast of a Monster Goddess in rock and launching it into the sky.

Impossible just meant somebody wasn’t trying hard enough or thinking far enough outside of convention.

The ground cracked between them and Kameko laughed breathlessly, “Good!”

Neither hand wavered, no matter how hard their arms shook beneath the effort.

Kameko’s eyes shuttered closed for a moment, “No one’s made me try so hard in _ages! _Thank you Mito-chan!” – before her chakra flared, dark eyes snapping open alight with it – “First Gate Open!”

~

It took two Jishin clansmen to peel Mito out of the crater Kameko had created after opening the Third Gate, but it had been all smiles as Jishin had been added to her haori.

~

Sango had been waiting outside, her long dark grey flawless in its off-center bun with a crystal flower pin holding back her bun, dark blue yukata decorated with silver cranes.

Her smile was icy but her pale blue eyes were friendly, “Mito-chan, I’ve been expecting you.”

In a blink, there were two Sango, one going left and one going right, both talking separately.

“You may have won the support of all but the Funka so far-“

“Did you beat the other clans into submission like your father-“

Her eyes tracked both, trying to decide if this was just a multi-layered genjutsu and Sango was still there by the wall, or if only of the two walking was an illusion.

“-however, none of them are the Fubuki though. We were the latecomer to this area, your grandmother remembered when-“

“-did nearly twenty years ago? I doubt it. They are-“

It would be like Sango to weave a test into this illusion, to see if she would act in anger either in question or by insult.

“-we came here, led by my great-grandfather, fleeing the fighting in Water Country.”

“-just as equal strong as you, if not stronger. Does that mean they took pity-“

It could be either or neither.

“My clan could pack up and go in a night and leave like were never here.”

“on you? Or did you impress them somehow?”

Mito did not move, “I will not force any clan to stay if they do not wish to be here, but it will not be like the Fubuki were never here. They, you, have friends who would miss you dearly, people who would mourn your loss not for your skill alone, but your companionship too.” – looking from one Sango, to the other – “I did not win every challenge. Against Daitan I did, Akemi I tore off a sleeve but did not catch. I tied with Ezume, and Kameko won with her Third Gate open. Beating them, proving myself superior was never the goal. It was just to stand with them, that it was our clans coming together that allowed me to hold my own against each of them who’d trained all their lives for their skills.”

A kunai pressed against her throat, a whisper of a laugh in her ear, “You couldn’t break my genjutsu, Mito-chan.”

She caught the knife between two fingers, and crushed it with a smile, looking down pointedly at where she’d slipped an explosive tag from her sleeve onto Sango’s yukata, and where it would take but a second for her chakra to activate it from where a finger touched the tag, “But did I need to?”

There was a slow clap from downwind, “No, Mito-hime, you did not.”

She peeled off the explosive tag from her friend as they both turned to look at Fudo Funka, his bronze skin creased by the corner of his amber eyes as he smiled, short dark red hair littered with a gray hair or two blowing faintly from the sea breeze.

His perpetually skeptical face was smoothed out in amusement, “You learned the lesson your father did not preach. He’d wondered if you’d saw beneath every lesson that he’d taught you in this village, that a leader is only as strong as those that follow them. I promised him that if you could demonstrate that, I would sponsor you as his successor. And you did.”

~

With the Fubuki and the Funka behind her, Mito had won the right to lead her village.

Of course, that was when their distant cousins the Senju appealed to her father for a marriage between their clans, with her and the Senju heir.

She neither denied nor accepted, just asked for five years to get the affairs of succession with her clan and village put in place before she could consider marriage.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Five Years Later, except not exactly as expected

Five years later, the Senju head came in person to negotiate for Tobirama Senju, who as Mito had expected, once Itama had gone back for Kawarama, he’d followed all the way to Uzu, and refused to leave his brothers even knowing that Itama was Uzumaki now.

He didn’t come alone, joined by the Uchiha head, and the Senju’s third-in-command.

Her spies in Fire Country told her of how Tobirama’s absence had created a vacuum in the Senju-Uchiha battlefields. That the Uchiha heir had snarled and yelled, demanding to know where his enemy was, before the Senju head had trapped both sides in overgrown plants, trees twining around fighters, vines around the wounded, poisonous plants sprouting from the dead, and tried to go to where his brother had been hot on the tail of what had appeared to be his other brother’s kidnapper. That in a rare moment of calm, the Uchiha head had demanded a ceasefire between their clans – with a strange stress on how this _didn’t_ mean peace to the Senju head – while the power imbalance was addressed.

Apparently Tobirama had been more co-head of the Senju clan than it had appeared, and her spies were fascinated at what that meant, sending back tens of missives of questions they wanted answers to from him.

That the two top fighters of the Senju hadn’t been angling for the complete destruction of the Uchiha, as seen both by the Senju head’s reaction to the disappearance of his brother and the trail of destruction left by Tobirama, had changed some minds among the Uchiha about the war.

As did the Senju third laying out the Uchiha heir when he’d refused to think of a more formal tentative peace instead of their informal ceasefire, while the Senju had been trying to find Tobirama. It had apparently knocked him out for an hour, and won the third five different marriage proposals by Uchiha.

While they were doing this, she’d sent over a missive politely asking the Senju to retrieve the Senju heir before he was adopted into the Uzumaki, and the retrieval had turned into a faux-joint mission between the Uchiha and Senju heads while they were hashing out the practical terms of a peace that their elders were stone-walling them on.

Considering the political importance, she was greeting them in full regalia, dressed up in armor laid atop a beautiful kimono, with her brother by her side.

Her brother being there also meant that his stolen soon-to-be adopted Uzumaki and also formerly Senju brother was glued to his side, refusing to leave. Which also meant that Tobirama kept breaking out of every seal and room that they were willing to put him in just shy of tying him up and tossing him down a hole with his chakra suppressed, to glue himself to their sides.

The Uchiha-Senju party were escorted by Kameko’s adopted daughter Mai to the gates of Uzu, where they were waiting.

“Welcome Senju-sama, Uchiha-sama, Senju-san. I hope Mai was helpful?”

The Uchiha opened his mouth with a grimace, his long black hair looking like someone had taken chakra wire to try and tie back the frizzy mess but was less than effective, “No one said anything about the humidity-!”

The tanned man next to him, his long chestnut brown hair looking a little frazzled but much better than the man next to him, wasn’t even looking at her, but the three men by her, “TOBI! ITAMA! KAWARAMA!”

“We’re_ fine-_“

His eyes welled up, and he freely cried as he bull-rushed the three, thick muscled arms scooping all three of them up and spinning, “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH!!”

Tobirama had made an abortive motion to dodge, and drag the other two out of the way, but was hindered by how Itama stood his ground, tears in his eyes, “Hashirama!”

“Oak-brained numbskull! Put us down! Can’t you at least _act_ professional for two minutes!”

The Uchiha started laughing, “Hashirama?! The giant tree will sooner become you, Icicle, before that happens!”

The Senju woman pinched her nose, sigh long-suffering, before bowing to her, “Our apologies, Uzumaki-sama, my cousin is an emotional idiot without a single sense of etiquette. Tobi usually keeps him in line, but considering why we’re here, that’s a bit impossible for him to do.”

They both ignored how Hashirama just kept crying and saying his brother’s names, and Tobirama’s voice just got sharper and more irate the longer he was held in a bone-grindingly strong hug, as he couldn’t physically free himself without potentially hurting the other two caught with him, and they’d managed to seal his chakra before his limpet tendencies to cling to Kawarama and Itama ended up in another near-flooding of Uzu.

“No apologies necessary, it is understandable since Tobirama-san explained that the Senju had been under the impression that Itama was dead, and only revealed otherwise after Itama went to adopt Kawarama into the Uzumaki and Tobirama-san refused to be left behind. Losing three brothers would make anyone emotional.”

The Uchiha stopped laughing at the four Senju brothers long enough to wheeze out, “Hashi-Hashirama is- is always- _always_ like- this.”

The Senju woman – and it really wasn’t the time or place for this, but Mito was greatly admiring her muscled arms and legs, strong from being a frontline shinobi, fully capable of wielding the naginata on her back, if her spies’ reports were accurate – winced, “The Uchiha bastard, he’s not _wrong_. One of the strongest shinobi that I’ve ever seen, also one of the emotional also, without a hint of shame about it. “

Hashirama didn’t let go of his brothers as he pouted, turning to look at them, “That’s just mean, Tōka-!”

They were all witness to how he very abruptly went very red, various flowers sprouting up around his feet – and if her memory served of various mainland flowers, they were all _very_ complimentary things – before stuttering, “D-did it hurt?”

She raised an eyebrow, having a feeling where he was going with this, but somewhat curious if he would, “Did what hurt?”

Tobirama looked like he wanted to die witnessing this, “Anija, if you have any pride- don’t, _please_.”

“Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Itama and Kawarama were laughing even as they tried to comfort their older brother, who had turned around and was smacking his head again and again against the Gate.

She smiled, red lips stretching to show off sharp teeth to see how he’d react- and he just got redder, eyes wide, as did the Senju woman, Tōka, who didn’t seem to realize she breathed out, “_Damn_.”

“Did the Senju get all the handsome genes in Fire Country?”

The Uchiha seemed to be having trouble breathing as he laughed, watching all five Senju color in varying degrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> X3

**Author's Note:**

> This is me, have I ever managed to create a world where it is just a oneshot?  
As I created this, I may have also thought of other ideas that fit in the same universe, and there may, at some point, be a sequel.


End file.
